EVERYTHING BUT SPORTS: Stoners
As I was waiting at a stop light on my way to work this morning, beside me pulled a couple of young, college-age guys in a Jeep. I noticed this particular vehicle because as it rolled up to the light the young man in the passenger seat hung a cigar out the window, emptied the powdered tobacco out of it, and kept the wrapping.
In no way do I condone the use of illegal substances, but I had to smile at the audacity of what could only be interpreted as these young men’s preparations for an early 4:20.
What I saw next surprised me. In the back seat was a young woman of about the same age. Why was that a surprise? I know I’m making a lot of assumptions here, but I assume that woman is in some way a companion, or at least potential companion, of one of the young men.
And it hit me that there’s a certain tension between getting stoned and having a serious, mature relationship with a member of the opposite gender. I suppose it’s possible, but it’s kind of like being a pro-abortion Catholic or pork-eating Moslem. The two just don’t go together very well.
I don’t think either of my regular readers are stoners, but if one should happen to wonder by, let me just spell it out: Please grow up. You really can’t be a stoner, especially at 10 in the morning, and at the same time be a full-grown man.